Rising

by Lisa Swallow

  Jem isn’t home when I arrive at his house the next day so with relief I bundle what I left behind when I went on tour into bags. The quicker I do this, the better.

  I’m scouting around Jem’s lounge room for anything I might have left lying around when I hear the front door close. My insides turn in on themselves as Jem’s heavy footsteps ascend the stairs and I attempt to judge his mood from the pace.

  Jem pauses when he sees me, frowning at my rucksack. My heart turns rapid fire, memories of how close we got last night flaring into my cheeks as I’m caught in the attraction I have to this hot as hell guy from my fantasies.

  “You’re leaving then.” He indicates my bag.

  “Yeah. Thought it was best.”

  “Yeah, probably a good thing.” He fiddles with his keys, avoiding my eyes. So much for the ‘things to talk about’.

  “I can’t fit everything in my car though, is it okay if I come back later?”

  “Leave things here as long as you like.” He lifts his eyes to meet mine. “Going to stay with Jax?”

  “That’s a loaded comment if ever I heard one.”

  Jem scowls. “I’m not arguing with you, Ruby. I’m too old for little girl games.”

  Before I get a chance to retort he walks past into the kitchen.

  I debate following him and giving him a mouthful for patronising me; to point out he’s behaving like a big kid too. We’re not exactly being mature about this, are we? Placing his house keys on the coffee table nearby, I leave the house.

  ****

  Our conversation outside the hotel room isn’t mentioned by Jax; hopefully, he was too high at the time to remember his words, but I’m on edge around him now. I replay any physical contact we’ve had; looking for signs, Jax saw our relationship as more than musical. How Jax ever thought I could be added to his list of conquests, I have no idea.

  I won’t get undressed in front of him again.

  Life returns to normal after the tour, or as normal as my life ever gets. We have a break from official rehearsals but often evenings at home turn into a few drinks and a fair bit of music. The four of us discuss what’s coming next, planning our future.

  I don’t see or speak to Jem. Tour over; he backs off for a while. Jem’s away, we’re not sure where. The States I think. We have our studio time booked for when he returns. Whatever stress Jem entering my life has given me, the fact Ruby Riot are on the path to becoming a success makes everything worthwhile.

  But Jem consumes my thoughts. As a housemate, he was weird, and I kick myself that the easiness we had together was ruined by the step into something more, the night at the hotel. I question my sanity – at pining for an ex-drug addict, the unstable Jem Jones from Blue Phoenix. Yeah, he’s just what I don’t need. The ‘no relationships’ rule I have when it comes to the band should more than obviously apply to our pseudo-manager. Besides, I need to spend time outside of a relationship before I dive into another, and stop attaching myself to men who claim to want to help me.

  Yet I continue to miss him. Jem understood and didn’t judge, and he looked at me in a way that saw beyond Ruby. And for the first time, I didn’t care. Someone offered support and wanted nothing in return, an unusual situation in my life. I hope in a small way I returned that.

  Dan.

  Since the text that freaked me out before the tour, he’s been silent. On tour, the nightmare was distant but back in my normal life I’m on edge again. Maybe Dan’s with one of the girls he said he was fucking. The thought turns my stomach, not because he was having sex with other girls; but the possibility he might not have used condoms. I get tested and thankfully, I’m clean. That would be one last kick in the guts if he’d given me an STD.

  After a week of sleeping on the sofa at the boys’ house, I up my attempts at finding a new place to live. Sharing with three guys is okay but none of them has any clue about hygiene, let alone tidiness, and I’m used to living with clean freak Dan. Living and breathing Ruby Riot is okay, living and breathing Jax, Will, and Nate, not so much. A room comes up in one of Will’s friends’ house. My tin of savings covers a deposit and I gladly move out.

  A week after I take the room, life settles. I share with two uni students, Alison and Kate. They’re nice enough, but we have nothing in common. I don’t do small talk so I’m not sure living here will work out long term. I mostly keep to myself and fit into their house routine so at least the atmosphere is calm. The one problem is Kate is a serious student who studies more than she parties. She has a ‘curfew’ of no noise after eleven p.m. and she isn’t a fan of my guitar playing. So inevitably, I end up spending time with the boys anyway.

  Ruby Riot’s studio time is booked for next week and I’ve swapped as many shifts at the café as I can to early mornings and late evenings, freeing up my afternoons. Ben’s not happy with my unreliability, two weeks away touring, and now this less than a month later and I’m concerned I’ll lose my job. I have a little left over from my Escape Fund but not much. I don’t care if I lose my job. I’ll find something else. This is my big chance – our big chance – if Jem Jones has faith in us, I should too.

  This Ruby is worth something, now all I have to do is believe she can be who she wants.

  The evenings darken as summer heads to autumn although the late summer heat isn’t going anywhere. I head home from my shift at the café. I’ve arranged to catch the guys at the pub later, so Kate needn’t worry about the noise tonight. The narrow house is squashed together with other terraced homes, the majority filled with students. Ours is easily spotted because for some weird reason Kate likes to tend the square metre patch of grass below the window and there’re pansies growing there. I’m willing to bet our house is the tidiest on the street inside and out.

  Inside, Alison lounges on the sofa eating ice cream, blonde hair pulled into a ponytail, and watching some reality TV crap.

  Alison looks up when I walk in. “You’ve got a visitor.” She indicates the kitchen with her spoon. “Hot guy - how many do you have tucked away?”

  I drop my messenger bag on the floor. “You mean Jax?” I doubt Will or Nate would match her tastes, but Jax appears to be everyone’s taste, and he loves it.

  “No, Dan. You never mentioned you had a boyfriend.”

  A sharp spike of panic launches into my body. “What?”

  “Dan. He’s in the kitchen with Kate.” Alison frowns at me. “What’s wrong?”

  The room shrinks as I’m sucked into the fear I’ve not missed in the last few weeks. “Dan.”

  “Yes. He said you’d asked him to come over.”

  The dizziness grips, the weak girl fighting through. “Make him leave,” I say hoarsely. “Tell me when he’s gone.”

  “Oh, God, I’m sorry. Is he an ex? I didn’t know. He seemed so nice and friendly.”

  I fight the urge to charge out of the house. “Make him go. Please.”

  “Ruby, that’s not very nice,” says a familiar voice. I snap my head up and Dan stands in the doorway, holding a mug of coffee. The friendly, smiling man is a world away from the bastard who threatened to rape me last month. Physically, he’s imposing and he frightens me, but Dan also knows how to charm and use his looks into sweet-talking girls into doing what he wants. Evidently, this worked with Alison and Kate.

  I swallow against the memory of the last time I saw Dan. His hands on me, hurting, violating. The words, threatening what he’d do when he found me again, echo in my ringing ears. I can’t talk over the lump in my throat.

  “You never told me you were back,” he continues. “I’ve been wanting to chat to you about our misunderstanding.”

  “Misunderstanding?” I choke back the words. He can’t see my fear; he feeds off that. “I don’t want to see you, Dan.”

  “Just a chat?” he offers.

  “No.”

  Dan is dressed for a night-out in a crisp black shirt and jeans covering his long legs. His blue eyes are one of the things that captivated me years ago; the friendline
ss in them is a charade though. Good-looking guy with a rotten core.

  Kate appears behind Dan, cradling her mug. “Everything okay?”

  “No, it’s not. Why did you let him in?” I keep my gaze trained on Dan, refusing to break eye contact. I’m stronger than the girl he attacked. I’m not her.

  “I couldn’t leave him on the doorstep!” protests Kate. Dan gives her a grateful smile and she returns it.

  “Yes. You could.”

  “Maybe we should leave you to talk?” suggests Alison.

  “No!” I clear my throat. “Dan’s leaving.”

  No. Three times, I’ve said ‘no’. Dan’s mouth twists further into anger each time. No. The word I should’ve learned years ago.

  “Ruby,” he says, tone cajoling.

  “Get the fuck out!” I shout, pushing away the weak Tuesday threatening to invade. “I don’t want to see you!”

  If I climb the stairs to my room, will he follow? My housemates look at each other awkwardly.

  “Maybe you should leave, Dan,” says Kate. “Sorry, Ruby, I never realised you didn’t want to see him. I did think it was a bit strange; I thought Jax was your other half.”

  I widen my eyes. What the fuck did she say that for? I glance between her and Dan whose expression scares me.

  “Me and Ruby had a bad fight because I thought that about her and Jax too. You haven’t replaced me, have you, angel?” he asks.

  At the word ‘angel’, I want to vomit. I cross my arms and step to one side as he moves closer, pissed off with myself that his bulk and presence intimidate me. If I keep replying, we stay engaged, and then the further he worms his way into my new headspace.

  “Okay, I see this is a bad time. I’ll catch up with you later. I could drop by the café after work and take you for a drink? Or I’ve seen you at The Lions Head with the guys; maybe I could come and see you there?”

  His hardened look accompanies the veiled threat: ‘I can find you’.

  “Don’t bother! I don’t want anything to do with you!”

  “I’ll come and see you when you’re on your own, then we can talk properly.” Dan smiles in a way that chills my soul and I’m frozen in the moment as he says his polite goodbyes to my housemates and strolls out of the house.

  Just like that.

  Aware the fear coursing through my body will lead to outbursts at the two girls that could get me kicked out of the house, I run upstairs before any words escape.

  I close my bedroom door and lean against it. What if Dan changes his mind and comes back to the house? Comes for me? This man has been part of my life for five years in one way or another; how did I think I’d get rid of him so easily?

  Chapter Nineteen

  Ruby

  A week of looking over my shoulder, but Dan hasn’t reappeared. Every day I expect to see him at work or at the house but he never comes. Instead, Dan sends texts, taunting me with clever hints that he’s watching me, telling me where he’s seen me each day. Dan’s threats and my fear are enough to maintain some kind of control. Has he decided that’s enough for now?

  Shuffling shifts around to fit in with recording this week means I finish later and leave work at dusk. Jax knows the situation and insists he’ll meet me after work and take me home. I want to tell him not to but a small doubt niggles. No, if Dan has backed off again, I’m sure I’ll be okay. Psychological fear was Dan’s favourite weapon and he knows how effective it is on me.

  I don’t want to think about Dan. He’s the past and today I’m one step closer to my future. Another piece of my dreams just became reality: Ruby Riot is in a recording studio. My impression of recording studios comes from movies and this one is nothing like I imagined. It’s bigger and the technology is beyond my understanding. Nothing like the little place we hired to get a couple of tracks to upload to Bandcamp, the online place Ruby Riot has music for download.

  The large mixing desk dominates the room and the sound engineer runs through something on a laptop screen. Will and Nate have settled themselves onto a nearby sofa taking selfies and uploading to Instagram and Facebook. Our pages have a big following since the tour and their constant updates recently make us masters of spam.

  “Don’t forget to get Jax in a shot,” I say, indicating the lusted after guitarist tuning his guitar. His blonde hair has grown, falling into his face. I’m relieved that his confessions haven’t changed our relationship; but if I were at all interested in this guy, I’d be fighting off other girls who want a piece of him too. Judging by his popularity on tour, they’ll be forming an orderly queue for Jax next.

  I don’t notice Jem appear as I absentmindedly compare Jax to other guys, but when I do, the reason I’m not interested in Jax is abundantly clear. The moment we look at each other, my heart skips into my mouth and I realise exactly how much I’ve missed him. Jem returns my look, eyes expressing the reality of what we are. This isn’t just about clumsy attempts to deny physical attraction; our similarities slowly bind us.

  Why does he have to be Jem Jones?

  He tears his gaze from mine and greets everyone in his typically gruff fashion, ensuring no special welcome for me. My stupid heart retreats back to my chest.

  We spend half the morning working through the ins and outs of the studio, what we’re planning, and a couple of practice tracks. Jem’s different from on tour last month, looser than he was when I stayed with him. I haven’t seen him for almost three weeks. As Jem sends a text, I surreptitiously study him. He’s bulked up a little too and lost the edge of skinniness that hovered around his wiry frame. Aware of my scrutiny, Jem looks up, eyes shining. Has somebody rather than something breathed life back into him?

  We break for lunch and this includes beer for the boys. I despair at their continued lack of thought about Jem’s situation and mutter something to them before walking away. Jem sits next to me, sinking into the brown sofa, and opens a bottle of water.

  “It’s okay, Ruby. I don’t mind. Just because I’m dry, doesn’t mean I expect everyone else to be.”

  “I think it’s fucking rude. Dickheads.”

  Jem snorts. “You and your mouth.” I don’t miss his lingering look at the mouth he’s talking about. “How’s things?”

  “Yeah.” I can’t say good; Dan’s made sure of that. “How’s things with you?”

  “Better. But you’re not.” He drinks. “You’ve lost weight again.”

  “Checking me out already?”

  He sighs. “No, Ruby. Don’t start getting bitchy with me. What’s going on? Is it Dan?”

  I slide a look to my bitten fingernails. “I’m fine.”

  “Your singing’s shit when you’re stressed,” he remarks. “No point paying for studio time if you’re not up to par.”

  I jerk my head back up and fight against launching into an unhelpful string of expletives. Of course, Jem’s concern isn’t for my welfare. I told him not to care about me, so what do I expect?

  “I’m tired. Tomorrow will be better.”

  “Where are you living?”

  “I moved in with a couple of girls. Students.”

  He tips his head to the guys. “Not them?”

  “Not Jax.”

  I can’t fathom the look Jem gives me. We’re not close enough to touch accidentally, but the hyper-awareness of the proximity is intensified by the memory of the night his mouth briefly touched mine.

  “As long as it’s not Dan,” he says quietly and stands.

  When Jem walks away, I’m pissed off by the limit of his attention. Almost trysts in hotel rooms on tour mean nothing to Jem Jones; I’m long forgotten and back to being part of his project.

  ****

  Jem

  I’m fucking furious. Wall-smacking furious. I rub my sore palm from where I’ve hit the exposed bricks in the small hallway between studio rooms. I’m lying to myself. Lying that my anger is the effect the Dan situation has on Ruby’s performance and not because the effect on her worries me.

  Ruby’s haunted
again. The girl hidden behind the mask slipped out when I talked to her at lunch. I cornered Jax and asked him to fill in the gaps. He told me about Dan’s return, his borderline stalking, and Ruby’s refusal to do anything. As far as Jax knows, she’s spoken to Dan twice and now avoids him. Jax has been picking Ruby up after work; that’s how fucking frightened she is.

  Life in the States was a world away from Ruby Riot. I told myself the distance would help scrub Ruby from my mind; that spending so much time around her was the problem. Wrong. The chick haunts my thoughts and dreams wherever I am; and since I returned a couple of days ago, the urge to contact her has increased. Even though I surrounded myself by people and hooked up with an old friend, there was an emptiness. Those people are from the old Jem’s life and are already alien. This is what Ruby has done; she’s removing the last parts of him and pulling me into a fresher reality.

  Liam was around in LA, weirdly, he’s still with Cerys, the chick from school, years back. She’s a bit of a transformation in taste after Honey, but who am I to judge? At least Bryn hasn’t joined Dylan and Liam and entered the realm of the lovelorn yet, so there’s hope for the band.

  Lovelorn. Since when did the guys change from lust to love when it comes to chicks? How do they know when that shit happens? When I was still suspicious of Sky, I asked Dylan to explain exactly what he meant about ‘loving her’ but his words make no sense. To me, ‘love’ sounds like needing someone too much and that never ends well. People take from you and hurt you; and if you try to love them, they fuck off.

  Or die.

  One thing Dylan said sticks uncomfortably, his words about looking into Sky’s eyes and seeing himself - his heart and soul. I’m unsure I’d go that far, but I do see something in Ruby’s eyes. It can’t be my heart because I don’t reckon I have one when it comes to emotional shit. My heart’s a muscle that pumps blood around the body, including to the part of me I normally think with when it comes to girls. That’s all. My soul? What the hell does soul mates even mean? That you both need each other so much you’re scared to leave? Makes my head spin.